A/N: Thank you all so much for the support and comments! It's good to know I still have an audience to write for. And to Eledh—yes, I forgot about Galadriel, but let's not EVEN go there! I'm sure Lord Celeborn would kill me if I tried anything. ;) On to the story.

Part 10:

Another week passed, and a day came when it was unusually warm for the time of year. The denizens of Imladris hoped it would signal the beginning of an early spring. Even Elladan's spirits seemed raised, and he managed to get out of bed to sit in the sun by the window for a few hours. He even held a decent conversation with his father about the expectant mares that would foal that spring. Elrond hoped that Elladan would show some interest in choosing a new horse from the stables. However, the warm weather did not last, as twilight settled over the valley and storm clouds could be seen over the mountains.

Elrohir stood at the windows in Elladan's room as his brother watched him from the bed. "Perhaps the clouds will not make it over the mountains," he commented idly.

"Are the stars out tonight?" Elladan asked.

"Yes, though the clouds are on the horizon. Do you want to see?" Elrohir asked, prepared to help his brother over to the window.

"No," Elladan answered quickly.

"Why do you ask the same question every night, Elladan? And every night you do not want to see the stars. Is not even the Valar's handiwork capable of bringing you joy anymore?"

Elladan did not answer, but Elrohir did not expect him to. "We used to sing to the stars. We used to ride our horses under the canopy of night, just to feel the wind and taste the salt of the earth on the air. Do you not remember?"

"I remember a night when the stars were not out and no light came at dawn," Elladan replied.

"And yet there have been nearly a month's worth of dawns since that day. Do you not see that light at all?" Elrohir turned so that his back rested against the cool pane of the window. "I would trade places with you, if I could, Elladan. I did not want to leave you there, in the clutches of those monsters."

Elladan's eyes flashed with the fire of a Balrog. "Do not say such a thing, Elrohir! Would you wish to be whipped and chained to the floor like an animal! Worse than an animal, for no living creature deserves to be so bound to cold stone. Would you wish to be poisoned so that the stones feel warm in comparison to your heart? Do you wish that your first time sharing your body was to be *raped* by an *orc*! Because that's what would hav—" Elladan broke off, his body wracked with chills and pain as his weakness caught up with his anger. He curled up on his side around the ache in his body.

Elrohir was at his side immediately, petting his shoulder and trying to ease his breathing that came in short gasps and coughs. "No…" Elladan batted his brother's hand away. "Leave me!"

Elrohir backed off the bed at Elladan's harsh command. He had never been spoken to so by his twin, no matter how bitter their bickering and sibling rivalry had become over centuries. Sobs stuck in his throat as he ran out of the room in search of his father. He nearly ran into Elrond and Glorfindel as they were walking towards Elladan's room.

"Elladan needs you, Ada," he managed to say without betraying too much of his grief.

Elrond ducked inside the room, though Glorfindel stayed in the hall with Elrohir. "What happened?" he asked the younger twin.

"Nothing," Elrohir shrugged off the concern and continued down the hall.

Glorfindel was torn between the pain in Elrohir's eyes and the cries coming from Elladan in the next room. Elrond's bark of "Glorfindel!" made his decision for him, and he turned into Elladan's room with one last glance down the hall at Elrohir's retreating figure.

Elrond was seated on the bed, holding Elladan in a sitting position and trying to make him drink from a glass he held. "Glorfindel, please go fetch some towels, hot water and athelas," Elrond asked when he saw the blond enter the room.

Glorfindel left to seek the requested items, surreptitiously looking for Elrohir as he did. His instincts told him that Elrohir was not in state of mind to be left alone at the moment.



Elrohir did not know where he was headed as he left Glorfindel standing in the hall. His brother's harsh words made him feel ill. He knew it would have been better if he had been captured in Elladan's stead. Then he would be dead—for Elladan was right, he would have never survived the ordeal—and his family would simply grieve and carry on. Elladan would not be doomed to torment and slow death by grief and depression, living his last days in some strange half-life somewhere between the worlds of light and shadow.

Elrohir found himself in the kitchens. It was late, and most every elf had retired to bed. He grabbed a bottle of strong red wine from the racks lining one wall and headed out doors. Perhaps the cold air would clear his senses and settle his stomach. He would ask the stars what he should do about Elladan—he feared only Illuvatar himself would know how to help his brother.

He made his way down to the banks of the Bruinen, gulping the sweet wine as he went. He slipped on the wet stones, but caught himself on a low-hanging branch before he tumbled into the river. The water ran swift and cold, fed from the melting snows of the Misty Mountains and the recent rainfall. Elrohir sat heavily on the bank. He could hear distant thunder over the mountains, and it brought to mind the last rainstorm he was caught in while he was riding through the forest after rescuing Elladan. He shivered and wrapped his arms around his knees. There was a chill in the air and he had left without his cloak, so he took another long draught from the bottle to warm himself. Sighing, he let his emotions run out of him in the form of tears as he watched the dark swirl of the water below him and the swell of the clouds above.



Glorfindel retired to bed late following the episode with Elladan. The young elf had suffered from another attack brought on by the poison and aggravated by the stress of the sudden changes in the weather. Or so Elrond had surmised. Glorfindel tended to believe that it had more to do with whatever upset Elrohir so.

He had tried to find Elrohir, but none of the household knew where the younger twin was, or had seen him for the remainder of the evening. Glorfindel did not overly worry, as Elrohir's horse was still safely ensconced in the stables. He would resume the search in the morning, where the light of day would most likely find Elrohir returned to his brother's side.

Glorfindel was just settling into the world of waking dreams when his door creaked open. "Who goes there?" he asked of the intruder. There was too little light to discern the features.

The suddenness of his question startled the visitor, and Glorfindel winced at the sound of glass breaking. He leapt out of bed and quickly lit the candle by the bed. The light showed Elrohir standing just inside the door, the remnants of a broken wine bottle scattered at his bare feet.

"Oh, by the Valar, Elrohir!" he said, relieved it was not an intruder with more deadly intent. "Stay where you are. You will cut your feet if you move overly much."

Elrohir seemed to sway where he stood, but stayed put as Glorfindel swept up the broken glass. "Where have you been? I had most of the household looking for you."

"Thinking," Elrohir answered, kneeling beside Glorfindel and trying to help him pick up the sharp pieces with clumsy fingers.

Glorfindel sniffed. "Drinking is more like it," he muttered. "Did you consume the entire bottle? Nay, stay still. You are hindering more than helping."

Elrohir sat back against the door until Glorfindel deemed it safe for him to walk on the bare floor. He helped the younger elf up and caught him around the shoulders as he swayed again. Elrohir responded by wrapping his arms about Glorfindel's waist. He leaned up to the taller blond and captured his lips in a bold kiss.

"What do you think you're doing?" Glorfindel squeaked, pushing Elrohir backwards and away from him.

Elrohir rounded on him, cornering him against the bed. Glorfindel did not fear for his safety, but he did not want to hurt the young elf.

"I've wanted you, Glorfindel," Elrohir confessed. "I've wanted you since the first time I saw you astride a horse, fierce and proud yet as gentle as any of the Firstborn has right to be."

Glorfindel misjudged the position of the bed in his confusion and ended up falling onto it as he backed away from Elrohir. "Yes, I knew of your infatuation as a child, but I was sure you grew out of it long ago."

Elrohir had a knee upon the bed and he leaned down, trapping Glorfindel with his weight. "I want you take me, Glorfindel. I have not taken a lover, and I will now." He was close enough to Glorfindel that the elder elf could feel the heat of his arousal, and knew it to be no bluff on Elrohir's part. The realization of the situation hit him.

"You are drunk, Elrohir! You shame yourself by assuming you can push me, Glorfindel of the House of the Golden Flower, into defaming the son of the very Lord I serve!" He pushed Elrohir off of his chest and twisted to throw him onto the bed.

Elrohir stared at him wide eyes, silenced by his own actions and the regard of the Elf Lord towering over him.

"Your seductions need much practice, Elrohir, but I suggest you practice them elsewhere. As it is, I will escort you to your own bed for the night."

Glorfindel hauled Elrohir to his feet and marched him back to his own room like a wayward child, closing the door firmly behind him in his wake.

"Surely the Valar could have found a better task for me than this," he muttered as he made his way back to his bed. "I do not care if the Balrog himself returns for Elrohir tonight, I will not be moved from this bed 'till morning!"